


Creature of the night

by annaiva_v



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Good Parent Maggie Tozier, Homophobic Language, M/M, Mild Blood, Oblivious Eddie Kaspbrak, Period-Typical Homophobia, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Vampires, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:01:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24014884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annaiva_v/pseuds/annaiva_v
Summary: Shouldn't love you, but I couldn't help it. Had a feeling that you never felt it, I always knew that you were too damn selfish.
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Richie Tozier/Stanley Uris
Comments: 3
Kudos: 28





	1. I'll put up no resistance, I want to stay the distance

**Author's Note:**

> The title of this chapter is based off the song Touch-a, touch-a, touch me from Rocky horror. Warnings for this chapter: Non graphic depictions of vomiting, speculation of eating disorder.

Richie’s avoiding me, I’m absolutely sure of it. Why else haven’t I seen him for an entire week. Stan says he’s sick, but I don’t buy it. He didn’t get sick when he ate that dirty Timbit off the sidewalk, so I find it hard to believe he’s actually sick. So I’ve decided to go over to see him, to prove he’s not sick, and he’s actually avoiding me. Maggie answers the door and greets me with a kind smile.

“Hello, Eddie. Richie’s sick, but I’m sure he’d love a visitor.” He’s probably just faking to his mom, so she doesn’t make him go out. I go upstairs to his bedroom and tentatively knock on his door. He doesn’t answer but I push open the door anyways. The room is basically pitch black, the curtains are drawn and I swear there’s a piece of cardboard taped to the window.

“Close the door.” His voice is muffled from underneath the mess of blankets. I shut it and the light from the hallway cuts out, submerging us in darkness.

“You’re sick?” His messy hair peaks up from the top of the blankets.

“Extremely.” He accentuates his statement with a coughing fit. Okay, now I feel kinda bad for doubting him. he pulls back the blankets and I feel my eyes widen. His skin is almost translucent in its pallor, and his eyes are a storm grey.

“Do I really look that bad?” He huffs out a laugh and sits up.

“A little bit,” I take a step closer to him

“Have you been eating well? Drinking enough water?” I go to check his temperature but his firm grip on my wrist stops me, it’s like ice. His dark eyes bore into mine, as he brings my hand closer to him.

“Richie?” My eyebrows furrow and he drops my hand, eyes turning away. Just as I’m about to ask what the hell that was, the door opens.

“Richie darling, supper’s ready. Eddie if you’d like, you’re more than welcome to join us.” Richie looks hesitant. But I won’t have any of that, If he wants to get better he needs nutrients.

“I would love to stay, Mrs. Tozier.” I give Richie a pointed look.

“Lovely,” she claps her hands together and exits, leaving the door wide open. Richie slides out of bed and I avert my eyes when I realize he’s only got a thin shirt and boxers on.

“Eds, I’m warning you. If I eat anything, I’ll literally spew chunks.” I scrunch my nose up in disgust, but still shove him out of his room when he’s dressed.

Richie was in fact, not lying about the spewing chunks thing. We had gotten through dinner easily enough, though Richie had grimaced at every bite. But that might just have been his moms cooking -she’s trying her best- It was meatloaf. No one could make meatloaf good. But as soon as we were out of sight, he was quite literally spewing chunks. It was a quite normal side effect of being sick, but what really concerned me was the blood.

“Rich, you have to go to the hospital. Your stomach could have a tear or your esophagus. Has this happened before, shit you could fucking die.” Richie’s hand grips me by the shoulder and he puts his head in the junction where my neck and shoulders meet. He breaths in deeply and I desperately want to push him away. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive him if he pukes on me. He inhales deeply and causes goose pimples to rise on my arms.

“Rich?”

“M’ fine, just caught a bug.” My cheeks flush a deep red as his warm breath ghosts over my neck.

“You’re puking up blood, you could have a stomach ulcer.” He huffs out a breath against my neck, I feel my temper increasing.

“This isn’t a fucking joke, you could have a serious medical problem!” I shove him away from me and gasp. His pupils are blown wide, almost entirely engulfing the grey.

“That’s it, I’m getting your mom and we’re going to the hospital right now!” He reaches out with incredible speed and holds tight onto my wrist, stopping me from getting up. He looks me dead in the eye, unblinking.

“I am not sick. You don’t need to get my mom.” I shake my head and blink my eyes a few times.

“Why are you talking like that? Oh my god, you must be in shock, we are going to the hospital whether you think you need to or not!” He looks a bit startled at the fact that I don’t believe him. I try to haul him up, but his stubbornness proves to be relentless. He pulls me back down and I land with a hard thud a few inches from his face. His eyes flit down to my lips and back up to my eyes so quickly think I might’ve imagined it.

“I can’t go to the hospital. They’ll take me away, Eds.” The implications of his statement have me reeling, I had thought I’d known everything about him. He had never shown any outside signs of anything being wrong. Unsure of how to proceed I wrap him up in my arms, he goes willingly and lets out a sigh of relief.

“Ok so no hospital, but you still just puked blood. That is very concerning.” He takes a deep breath and pulls away just a fraction.

“Like I said it’s just a bug. It’s probably colour from something I ate earlier.” I decide not to fight him on it.

“You should get some sleep if you’re sure that this is just a bug. Sleep and fluids will cure you in no time.” His eyes flit to the tiled floor when I say cure. I help pull him off the ground and lead him to his bed, where he settles in with a heaving sigh. I pull the covers up to his chin and he’s got a dopey smile on his face.

“I should get sick all the time if it means you’ll be this nice.” I roll my eyes but a smile graces my face.

“If you’re sick all the time I’ll never get to hang out with you.” His smile falters a bit and he pulls the blankets up to cover his face.

“Can you stay? Please?” It’s muffled but I can hear what he says.

“Scooch.” I dug him with my hand and crawl in beside him.

Two days later Richie is back to his normal self, almost. He still looks a bit pale and shaky, but that’s probably from lack of sunlight and basic nutrients. He is wearing a dark knit sweater in 30-degree weather though. So, as per usual I’m concerned about his health, he could get heatstroke.

“Are you kidding me, Rich. It’s like a hundred degrees out, how are you not dying?” Beverly says as she fans herself with Stan’s book, he snatches it back and complains about her hand sweat ruining the delicate pages. I roll my eyes and walk over to where Richie is.

“Are you feeling ok?” I want to check his temperature and maybe get a doctors note but I refrain, I don’t want to seem overbearing.

“I’ve still got the chills, that’s the reason for the sweater. There’s no need for worry, I’m fine.” My thoughts go back to that night when he told me they would take him away. Is his cold the only reason? I push the thought aside for now and focus on my friends, we’ve planned to go to the quarry today. We all get on our bikes and race down to the cliff, Richie and Stan falling back. Usually, it’s Richie and me who are in the front, racing for first, but now it’s Bill and I. I try not to feel jealous, Richie’s still recovering. Obviously, he’s not at his best, he can’t race with me, and Stan’s always the slowest.

“You’re not coming in?” I say to Richie as we all strip down into our underwear.

“Still kinda sick, and someone needs to keep our Stanny boy company.” It was rare for Stan to ever participate in the cliff jumping, he’d do it at least once a year. I understand why Richie’s not doing it, but it still bums me out. In Loser’s tradition Bev jumps off first and the rest of us follow, while Richie and Stan take the pathway down. When I resurface I see them sitting together on the rocks, their heads bent close. Once again I try not to let the jealousy cloud my mind, It’s fine for Richie to have other close friends. It’s not like I have a mark on him, and I’m the only one he can talk too.

“what’re you two whispering about?” Bev shouts from the water, she slowly makes her way towards them. Richie tosses her a pack of cigarettes when she reaches the rocks, she lights it and takes a long puff. I see at least four cigarette butts scattered beside Rich, and I have a mild panic attack when I imagine the state of his lungs. He pulls out another one and takes a thoughtful puff.

“Eddie’s mom, and how good I fu-”

“-Don’t finish that fucking sentence!” He takes another puff and grins wide, leaning a bit on Stan.

“Don’t be such a Debbie Downer, Eds. I’m bored, let’s do something else.” In his usual fashion, he says whatever’s on his mind. Surprisingly Stan agrees with him, and we find ourselves wandering the streets of Derry. I quickly pop into the ice cream shop and purchase two ice creams, one vanilla and one chocolate swirl. Richie eyes me as I come out the door, and smiles when I hand him the vanilla cone.

“The old wine and dine, eh?” He wiggles his eyebrows and takes a bite out of the ice cream, just watching him makes my teeth ache.

“You’re disgusting.” Stan gives him a funny look, and Richie hands the ice cream to him. I try not to let it sting, maybe Richie’s just giving him a taste. But during the next ten minutes, Stan finishes it and Richie disappears for a while. He comes back a lot paler and shakier and my concern skyrockets. He shouldn’t be out with us today, he’s obviously not well enough.

“Are you sure you’re ok, Rich?” He gives me a tight smile and nods his head, I don’t believe it for one second.

“Why don’t we head down to the diner?” Mike proposes an all of us heartily agree. It’s been losers tradition that every Friday night we go down to the only diner in town. Their food is shit, but Richie seems to enjoy it. We get there and it’s almost empty, like usual. We get our table in the back, Beverly and Ben go up to the counter to order our food. The server comes back almost forty minutes and hands out plates for each of us. Richie looks down dejectedly at his hamburger and Stan gently pats his arm. I try not to worry, he’s just not feeling well. Whenever I’m sick I can’t even look at food, maybe it’s just my mom's cooking though.

“You haven’t touched your food, Richie.” Mike points to Richie’s plate and his expression falters, he quickly schools it and puts on a fake grin.

“If I eat any of this, I will literally shit my pants.” Beverly makes a face and tosses a fry at him, completely disregarding his own statement he picks the fry off the floor and eats eat.

“Y-you’re disgusting.” He winks and shoves a handful of fries into his mouth. By the end of the night, Richie has picked off everyone’s fries and finished half of Stan’s milkshake. If what he said was true, I pray for his bowels. Usually, Stan would’ve turned right with me, while Richie continues on straight. But Stan doesn’t turn, he stays close to Richie and keeps walking. Richie turns his head and waves to me.

“See you tomorrow, Eds!” Stan waves too and I’m stood still in the middle of the street. Stan hates sleepovers, especially with Richie -he’s a major sleep kicker/talker-. Against my better judgment I take off after them, is Richie replacing me? It’s ok for him to get new friends, but I thought we were endgame. I quickly slip behind a tree when they both stop, Richie kneels down and upchucks his dinner. Stan rubs a soothing hand on his back, I lean closer and I register quite sniffles coming from Richie. Now I feel guilty for intruding on something so obviously private and personal. Is this what Richie was talking about in the bathroom. If he trusted me enough to tell me, why couldn’t he trust me enough to help him? I leave before they can notice me, it would only make Richie angry to know I’ve been spying on him.


	2. I can taste your skin in my teeth, little bit of poison in me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Blood, death, murder

“You’re so fucking selfish!” I duck an incoming pencil and toss a pillow in retaliation.

“Shut the fuck up, idiot! You’re the one being selfish!” How did we even get here? The night had been going so well. We’d watched a movie, we’d even shared a bowl of popcorn. Then I’d gone out for a smoke and Eddie had lost his shit.

“How? Enlighten me, how the fuck am I being selfish!” I had not thought this far ahead.

“Is my wanting you to be healthy selfish? Is my wanting you not to fucking die of cancer selfish?” His dad had died of cancer, but that doesn’t give him the right to freak out about my habits.

“Yes, it is! You don’t have to be so fucking neurotic all the time! Why don’t you go yell at Bev?” My breath his heaving through my chest and I’ve realized I’ve crossed a line.

“I don’t care about Bev, the same way I care about you!” 

“Fuck off!” I don’t even know why I’m mad anymore, he’s just admitted that he cared about me. But now I’ve fucked everything up, the best thing to do is just leave. It’ll give us time to cool down, then I can apologize. I slam his door behind me and practically run out onto the street. It’s dark out but I’m familiar enough with the streets to know where I’m going.

I took a wrong turn, I definitely took a wrong turn somewhere maybe ten minutes ago. I swear I hear a second set of footfalls close behind, but I can’t be sure. It’s too dark to tell, either way, I speed up my steps. I can just make out the arch of the kissing bridge, great, I’m really fucking far from home.

“Richie.” The voice sends chills down my spine and I speed up to a light jog, I just need to cross the bridge and make a few right turns. A twig snaps behind me and I swing around, but there’s no one there. My heart rate speeds up and I take a step back. My foot catches on a root and I feel myself falling backwards. I roll back a few times and land in the light bushes of the Barrens.

“Shit, shit,” I mutter as I try to stand up, my ankle gives out beneath me and I fall on my back.

“Richie.” The voice speaks again and I try to pull myself backwards. I can barely make out a tall figure walking down the hill. It gets closer and I can now see that It’s Patrick Hockstetter. He comes closer to me and leans over.

“You poor thing. Are you scared?” He laughs and kneels down beside me, running the back of his hand against my cheek. I involuntarily shiver at the contact and try to pull myself away. He Tsks and leans over me, caging me in with his arms.

“Just stay still, and everything will be fine.” He places a large cold hand on my hip and slides it under my shirt. I bite back a whimper and turn my head away, but he forces my head towards him with a harsh tug on my hair.

“I want you to look at me.” He sneers at me and forces my lips open with his tongue. It’s fucking disgusting and I almost gag, but I hold it back. I don’t know what he’ll do if I puke. His hand resumes its earlier position and slides up to my chest.

“That’s it, pretty boy, just stay still.” He pulls back and begins to unbutton my jeans. He’s going to rape me, he’s going to fucking rape me. I start to struggle against his hold and he clamps a hand around my throat.

“I told you not to move!” He pushes his tongue back into my mouth and reaches his hand into my pants. I don’t want this, I don’t want to be dirty, I’m not dirty! In a split second decision I bit down hard on his tongue, blood fills my mouth and he pulls back in a rage.

“You fucking fag!” Blood runs down his mouth and he spits on my face. He rears back and grips my head in a vice.

“I’m going to fucking kill you!” He slams my head into the ground and I feel a resounding crack. Black spots dance across my vision as Patrick picks me up. He carries my body a few feet then drops me into the freezing river. Water engulfs me and fills my lungs, choking me. Is this it? Am I going to die in this fucking river? I try to reach out but my body doesn’t obey my mind, I feel myself sinking to the bottom and I think of Eddie. Was our last conversation really a fight? If I had just stayed and apologized, we could’ve been sitting close sharing another bowl of popcorn.

I try to force my eyes open, but they’re heavy and won’t obey me. One by one feeling returns to my fingers and my arms. I slowly sit up and rub my eyes, my wet hair sits heavy on my forehead.

“Shit,” I swear when my head throbs and stars dance across my eyes. Ignoring my pain I scan the area for any sign of Patrick. When I don’t see him I let out a breath. I slowly get up on my feet and try to climb up the slope. I’m surprised when my ankle doesn’t give out on me, I swear it was sprained. My clothes are heavy and wet and the cold clings to my bones. I can’t go home like this, I’d probably give my mom a heart attack. Eddies’ is out of the question, he’d just freak out and worry way too much. Bev’s dad would blow a fucking casket if any boy showed up at her door. Stan is the closest to me, so that seems to be my only option. The walk is long and my head throbs at every step. I had checked but there was no blood, so I’m pretty sure I’m fine. Eddie would probably have a stroke if he saw me now.

“Richie? What the fuck are you doing here?” He still holds the door open for me and drapes a blanket over my shoulders when I sit down.

“What the hell happened to you?” Before I can even speak I break out into a sob. It rises deep from my chest and Stan looks startled, he lays a gentle hand on my shoulder.

“Patrick Hockstetter.” Stan’s eyes widen.

“He chased me and he wouldn’t stop. Grabbed my hair and pushed me down, He was going to-” I fall into Stan’s embrace and sob into his shoulder.

“He was gonna kill me, he was gonna fucking kill me.” 

“We’ll keep you safe, he won’t even be able to go near you.” I pull back from him and frantically shake me head no.

“They can’t know, Stan. Promise you won’t tell them.” They can never know. I’m dirty, I’m disgusting.

“Of course, Rich. Why don’t you stay the night?” He offers me a change of clothes and I accept them gratefully. They’re a bit on the tight side, but they’re better than my soaking wet clothes. His bed’s only a twin so it’s a tight fit, and we end up with our arms around each other.

“I don’t want to close my eyes.” He pushes my hair back from my forehead and looks deep into my eyes.

“You’re safe with me. If you want I’ll stay up with you.” I shake my head and he closes his eyes. His words actually help and I let my eyes slip shut. When I wake up Stan’s still asleep, snoring peacefully. I quietly creep to the bathroom, not wanting to wake Stan. It seemed like it was still early morning, from years of experience I know not to wake him. I look into the mirror and flinch back from my reflection. I can hardly recognize myself. My pupils are so dilated they almost obscure all the colour, and there are deep bags under my eyes. My hair’s a fucking mess, matted in multiple places. And my skin is so pale I’m almost glowing. Bile rises in my throat and I heave into the toilet. My stomach cramps painfully around nothing and an overwhelming hunger sweeps through me. I flush the toilet and cautiously creep out of the Uris’ house. I’ll thank Stan later.

The early morning sun is agonizing on my exposed skin, It’s turning red as I watch it. It bubbles up and bursts with searing pain. I scramble to find any coverage to block me from the sun. My head throbs along with my blisters and I scrap at my scalp, trying to tear the pain away. A chuckle comes from in front of me and I jerk up at the familiar voice.

“My poor Doll. Look at you cowering in the shadows.” His gloved and reaches out and cups my face. I try to pull away but his grip tightens and there’s a small crack that rings throughout my jaw. Patrick's eyes light up in glee.

“You’re not so fragile anymore. I can do whatever I want to you.” I try to pull away again but his grip is bruising. My jaw cracks again and searing pain shoots up my face.

“The fuck did you do to me?” He smiles and leans in close to my ear, his breath ghosts over my neck.

“I made you into my perfect plaything.” I involuntarily shiver at the implications.

“I didn’t get to taste you last time, but now you have to do everything I say.” What the fuck? He almost killed me. what more does he want from me?

“ **Come with me.** ” He walks away not even checking to see if I’m following him. My feet go against my brain and I walk after him.

“ **Don’t talk.** ” My skin bubbles in the sun and all I can do is quietly whimper.

It feels as if we’ve been walking for days, but it’s only been minutes. Even though my skin is blistered and red, I can only feel a deep coldness. My voice hasn’t returned and Patrick keeps turning to give me a cruel smile, my stomach churns at the thought of what Patrick has in store for me. We arrive at his house, which looks more like a meth lab than a home. The windows are boarded and the foundation is crumbling. He leads me inside and my body is relieved of the scorching heat.

“I love how obedient you are, you’re actually tolerable when you shut up.” He runs his hand down my neck, licking his rubbery lips. Against my better judgment, I inwardly preen at the complement. My friends never complained about me being too loud, I mean they told me to can it, but that was all in good fun. At least I think it was, maybe they’d like me better If I was quiet.

“ **Follow me.** ” I do as he says and we climb up the rickety steps, to where I assume is his bedroom. Dread builds up in my stomach with every step I take, what does he want from me? My suspicions are confirmed when he has me sit down on the bed.

“Are you going to be good for me? Or do I have to kill you again?” Kill me? That can’t be right. I’m not dead, right? Patrick seems to pick up on my confusion and he laughs.

“Oh doll, you didn’t know?” He laughs again and pins me against the bed.

“What’s going on?” His head dips down and he situates his lips against my neck. I shiver and weakly push at his shoulder. I can hear him inhale and he clamps down on my neck. I cry out as something sharp pierces my skin. The longer he stays clamped on my neck the lighter I feel. He pulls back with a bloody grin on his face. It takes my mind a minute to process that it’s my blood. I sluggishly blink my eyes and register that Patrick has fangs.

“You’re stupider then you look.” My heads still woozy and all I can do is grumble in protest.

“You’re so fucking dense, you’re a vampire.” Vampire? Those aren’t real. Just like the killer clown, we killed when we were thirteen isn’t real. Holy shit, I’m fucking dead, undead? So I did die, Oh my God I fucking died. He killed me, that fucker killed me!

“You killed me?” He chuckles and hands me a cigarette, I take it.

“Get over it, you get to live forever.” I get to live forever while all my friends grow old. I get to stay young while all my friends move on with their lives. I’ll be alone when my friends die. Rage bubbles up inside me and I grab whatever I can get my hands on. I plunge the carved knife into Patrick's meaty chest, blood spills over my hands. Patrick can’t speak as blood bubbles out of his mouth. I watch it with wrapt attention as it drips down his chin, I swim my finger through the shreds of his chest and bring it to my mouth. I suck it off my fingers and moan at the taste of it. Patrick doesn’t move under me and I snap back to reality. His eyes are dull and lifeless, his chest unmoving. Did I just kill the un-killable? 

“Patrick? Are you ok?” I poke his cheek and he doesn’t move. I swear and run out of the house as fast as I can. What’s the protocol for killing someone who killed you? Is it PEDMAS? Do they cancel out? I mean he was already dead anyway, so what does it even matter.

“Richie?” Stan is watching me with weary eyes, probably because I’m covered in blood.

“I killed someone.” It’s better to just get that out in the open. Stan’s eyes widen comically, and if I hadn’t just killed someone I’d laugh.

“Who?” 

“Patrick.” Stan pulls me into his arms and whispers that it’s ok. But it’s not ok, I just killed someone, and I’m going to live forever.

“Stan, the sun burns.” Stan looks alarmed but brings me into his house nonetheless. I scrub at my hands as Stan watches with a concerned look. He turns off the tap when I try to scrub off my skin, all I can see is red.

“Are you sure he’s dead?” I nod my head, unable to speak through the lump in my throat. He brings me a glass of water and I down it, he refills it.

“Please don’t freak out.”

“You just told me you killed someone, how much worse can it get?” Oh, it sure can.

“I’m a vampire.” 


	3. If there is a line, I know you won't cross it

Richie telling me that Patrick attacked him had made me furious beyond words. Richie telling me that he is a vampire just confuses me. I mean vampires aren’t real, piece of shit bullies are. But Richie looked so scared, so I gave him the benefit of the doubt.  
“I don’t know what the fuck to do, Stan.” He sounds so scared, so I try to act as normal as possible.  
“Explain to me what led up to this.”   
“When Patrick was holding me down, he put his hand over my mouth,” He takes a shaky breath in.  
“I bit him, and he bled in my mouth. He got mad and he, he hit me with a rock. I woke up in the water I didn’t know what had happened.” I place a hand on his knee to steady him, he takes a few deep breaths before continuing.  
“When I woke up I felt off like there was something wrong. And when I went outside in the morning the sun burned, it hurt like hell. And then Patrick found me and he said I was his plaything.” He visibly shudders.  
“He told me to follow him and even though I didn’t want to, my body just obeyed him. He took me to his house and then he bit me.” He pulls back his shirt, and sure enough, there are two puncture wounds.  
“He told me he killed me, and he said I was just like him. I freaked out and I just grabbed whatever and I stabbed him. I couldn’t stop, even when he stopped moving.” I shush him when he starts to freak out again. By all logic vampires can’t be real, it just goes against everything I believe in. No one is supposed to live forever. But everything that Richie is presenting to me points to the fact that vampires are real, and there’s one standing in front of me.  
“How are you feeling now?” The question seems to throw him off like he hasn’t even stopped to think about it.  
“Cold, like deep in my bones. And hungry.” He looks awful, to say the least. His skin is clammy and translucent. His veins are dark snakes coiling around his body. And his eyes, his pupils have taken over the colour.  
“You can have my blood.” I roll up my sleeve and present my wrist to him.  
“Are you fucking crazy? Absolutely not.” I sigh in frustration, why does Richie need to be so stubborn.  
“What’re you gonna do, Rich? Starve yourself until you physically cannot take it anymore, then kill someone? Take my blood, it’s ok.” He still doesn’t move to do anything, so as usual with Richie, I need to do all the work. I grab him by his mop of curls and force his face against my wrist. He tries to hide it but I can see him inhale sharply. He opens his mouth a bit and I can see sharp teeth. My heart rate picks up and I’m sure he can sense it, by the way, his pupils dilate even more.  
“It’s ok, Richie. I trust you.” My words seem to be the final push he needed because he sinks his teeth into my vein. I gasp at the sharp pain, but it slowly goes numb. When I start to feel woozy I pull at Richie’s hair roughly. He doesn’t let go and lets out a little growl.  
“I swear to God if you don’t let go, I will stake you.” He pulls away and smiles at me.  
“You don’t believe in God.” I lightly smack him and note that his eyes have returned to their normal colour.  
“How do you feel now?” I ask as I hand him a wet wipe. He wipes my blood from his mouth and smiles.  
“Like I’m alive again.” His smile falters a bit and a lump of dread settles in my stomach. Richie really is a vampire, he just drank my blood.  
“Thank you.” Instead of responding I pull him into a hug, he’s cold against me.  
“Can we keep this a secret? At least for now.” I can’t imagine hiding this forever, but I’ll try my best for Richie.

I’ve basically become Richie's personal blood bank, I still haven’t completely come to terms with it yet. Every time I try to get him to eat it’s a fight. I would’ve thought Richie would be more relaxed the more he took from me, but I was wrong. I can see each refusal takes his tole on him, he looks worse than the first time I fed him.  
“I’m just gonna go home.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. Why does this have to be so difficult?  
“The sun’s still out, you’re going to burn.” We’d found out after many trial and error that if Richie didn’t eat for a while the sun burned him bad. Even after knowing this information, Richie refused to take my blood regularly.  
“I don’t care, I just want to go home.” There’s no point in arguing with him so I let him go. I know it’s hard on him, obviously he got turned into a vampire against his will. But it’s hard for me too, to watch him starve himself while I’m right here willing.

After an hour of convincing, Richie finally agreed to take my blood.  
“If you want to go out you have to have my blood.” He stomps his feet like a child and huffs in annoyance.  
“But my parents are downstairs.” I roll my eyes.  
“So? You have to eat. We’re not leaving until you do.” He finally relents and latches onto my wrist. He doesn’t stay for as long as he should’ve but I let it slide, least I got him to eat. I wait on his bed as he changes out of his pyjamas. He throws on jeans and a thick wool shirt, which will probably send alarm bells off in everyone else’s head.  
“I’m always cold.” He finishes dressing and we say goodbye to his parents. Richie tries to walk in the shadows the entire way to the quarry, it makes him look like an idiot. As soon as we get there Eddie, like usual fawns over Richie. Beverly snatches my book fro me and fans herself  
“Are you kidding me, Rich. It’s like a hundred degrees out.” I snatch my book back from her  
“Your sweat is going to ruin the pages.” She sticks her tongue out at me as Eddie bombards Richie with questions.

Once we’re by the water everyone strips down and jumps into the water. I stay clothed to keep Richie company.  
“How are you feeling?” He’s probably tired of that question, but with his new situation, I need to know.  
“Cold, hungry.” He shrugs like it’s not a big deal.  
“what’re you two whispering about?” Richie puts out the cigarette he’s been smoking to answer.  
“Eddie’s mom, and how good I fu-”  
“-Don’t finish that fucking sentence!” He laughs wholeheartedly and tries to pinch Eddie’s cheek. Eddie looks down at the discarded cigarette butts and scrunches his nose up in distaste. In a normal circumstance I would nag him for smoking but now, I know he needs it to feel alive.  
“Don’t be such a Debbie Downer, Eds. I’m bored, let’s do something else.” He’s looking a bit pale and his veins are beginning to stand out. I think being in the sun drains him, but I’ll have to observe him longer to find out. Everyone agrees to go walking in the town, which will offer a little bit of relief for Richie. Eddie disappears into the ice cream shop and comes out with two cones, one of which he gives to Richie.  
“The old wine and dine, eh?” Richie wiggles his eyebrows and takes a bite out of his ice cream.  
“You’re disgusting.” I see Richie struggle to swallow it and I nudge him. I give him a look and he hands me the ice cream. He’d discovered he couldn’t stomach actual food by eating an entire cheeseburger and then proceeded to vomit the whole thing up. Eddie glares at me the entire time I eat the ice cream cone. Richie quickly slips away probably to puke up the bit of ice cream he ate. The sky’s beginning to darken and Mike suggests we go to the diner. I don’t think it’s a good idea, because Richie’s started to look worse, but he agrees to it. We arrive at the diner and Ben and Bev go to the counter to order our food, it’s too late for Richie to say he doesn’t want anything. We sit in our booth chatting for almost forty minutes until our food arrives. It smells like grease and warm bread, I wonder what it smells like to Richie, I’ll have to ask him later. I pat Richie's arm as he looks down at his food, it must be hard for him.  
“You haven’t touched any of your food, Rich,” Mike remarks halfway through the night, Richie’s caught off guard but he quickly schools his expression.  
“If I eat any of this I will literally shit my pants.” He eats the fries that Beverly throws at him and laughs with his mouth full.  
“Y-you’re disgusting.” Richie retaliates by sticking out his tongue and eating another mouthful of fries. By the time we have to go home, Richie has eaten off of everyone’s plate. I usher him out of the diner and begin to walk home with him and Eddie. Once we reach the fork in the road Eddie turns right and I continue on straight with Richie.  
“See you tomorrow, Eds!” Once Eddie is out of sight Richie lets his smile fall.  
“What does food taste like to you?” He doesn’t even have to think about his answer.  
“Ash.” He doubles over and pukes onto someone's lawn. I rub a soothing hand over his back, as he begins to sniffle.  
“I hate this. Why me?” I don’t know what to say, so I stay quiet.


	4. Please don't go, I'll eat you whole

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly don't know where I'm going with most of my fics. I just impulsively start them and not really think of how they're going to end. But if I'm being honest I don't want any of them to end because I just like being submersed in al the worlds I've created and the characters I've built.

I have reached my limit with Richie’s bullshit. He’s been acting fucking weird ever since I went to his house that day. There’s only one reason I can think of why he’s avoiding me. It’s the fight we had like weeks ago, but it's usual for us. He hasn’t even brought it up, but it is like Richie to just stew in his problems until he bursts. He’s also been hanging around Stan more often, I never knew they were that close. So when I go to Richie’s house and he’s not there, I go to Stan’s. Just like I suspected Stan opens the door with Richie peaking over his shoulder.

“Hey, Eds.” I push back Stan with a half-ass don’t call me that.

“Why are you ignoring me?” I’ve learned that if I ever want to get an honest answer out of Richie I have to be direct.

“I’m not ignoring you.” The sheepish expression on his face says otherwise. Stan sighs and looks to Richie.

“You should just tell him, he’s not going to stop asking questions.” Really? They’re going to talk to me like I’m not standing right in front of them.

“Tell me what?” They both look at each other and share some telepathic conversation that I’m frustrated to not be in on.

“Richie’s, there’s something different about him.” I roll my eyes, this isn’t news I’ve known Richie my whole life.

“There’s always been something different about him.” Richie looks at his feet and refuses to look at me.

“No, this is really different, like monumental.” Stan seems to be struggling, fumbling his words.

“I’m sick, Eddie. Really sick, and it’s not something I can cure.” Unwillingly my mind drifts to AIDs, but that can’t be right. Richie isn’t like that, he couldn’t be. Because that would make him everything my mom said about him true.

“No, you’re fine you don’t look sick.” I’m hoping that if he doesn’t say it, it won’t make it true.

“Eds, can you please just sit down and listen?” I’m taken aback by how serious his tone is, I sit down and look at him expectantly.

“I’m different now, and it’s something you’re just going to have to except.” she runs his hands through his unruly hair, I huff out a sigh.

“For god’s sake, Richie. Can you just fucking tell me?” Stan sends me a glare and I look away, feeling guilty for snapping at him.

“Hockstetter, he um, he tried to.” He puts a shaking hand over his mouth and Stan places a hand on his shoulder.

“He tried to fuck me, he found me at night and chased me down.” I feel like puking. How could Richie let that happen, I thought he was smarter than to interact with Patrick.

“He pushed me down and, and hit me with a rock. I woke up in the river, and I went to Stan’s. But he made me sick.” I puke this time, right into the decorative bowl on Stan’s table. They both gag and Stan picks up the bowl and throws it in the garbage outside. Richie looks at me with hurt eyes.

“My mom was right, she always told me you would catch something because you were dirty.” I can hardly control the words coming out of my mouth, there coming from a deep ugly part of me.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Eds? You’re really going to believe that bitch who’s been hand feeding you pills like a fucking dog.” Stan comes back in and immediately notices the tension, he sits at Richie’s side.

“But she was right wasn’t she? You said he made you sick.” He stands up so fast my eye can barely make him out.

“I don’t have fucking AIDs. And would it really be that bad if I was a fucking faggot?” He spits out the word like it’s venom, Stan starts to fidget with the blanket continuously glancing at Richie.

“Then what are you sick with?” I regret even coming here, why the fuck did I have to come here?

“I’m dead, I fucking need blood to survive.” My mind does somersaults around the word dead and blood. That’s not fucking possible, he can’t be dead he’s standing right in front of me.

“Why? How could you let this happen, Rich? Why are you never careful, this wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t,” I abruptly stop, scared of what I was about to say. Richie seems to know the end of the sentence though. He’s in front of me before I even realized he moved.

“Say it.” I swallow the lump in my throat.

“You wouldn’t be sick if you weren’t,” deep breath,

“A faggot.” His hand collides with my face and my head snaps to the side. A drop of blood slips from my nose into my mouth.

“Richie!” I turn back and Stan is holding onto the back of Richie’s neck with a deathly grip.

“I think it’s time for you to go, Eddie.” My whole body is frozen to the ground, I’m unable to move. Richie’s black eyes stare at the blood leaking from my nose. **Vampire**. The word flashes through my mind and everything falls into place. The speed, the sun sensitivity, his rapt attention on my blood.

“Eddie. Back out very slowly, don’t turn around, don’t run.” I do exactly as he says as Richie watches me as if I’m prey, which I guess is exactly what I am to him now.


	5. You look like a dead man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is short because I've been lacking motivation/ideas on this one.

As soon as the door slams shut I lose all control. I rip Stan's hand from my throat and pin him against the floor by his neck.

“Richie, don’t lose yourself.” The words mean nothing to me as I inhale his tantalizing scent. I can smell the fear radiating off him and it makes my mouth water. I get closer to him and I can feel him shake beneath me.

“Ricard Wentworth Tozier, this isn’t you.” I stop just an inch from his bare throat. I hold my breath and slowly back away from him, once I’m a safe distance away he sits up.

“I’m sorry.” My voice cracks and a wave of tears run down my face, Stan doesn’t get any closer but he still comforts me.

“It’s alright, this is all so new to you. I’m so proud of you.” I smile around my fangs and he chuckles a bit.

“Are you good now?” I nod and he crawls over to me and pulls me into his arms. I rest my head against his chest and listen to the soothing rhythm of his heartbeat.

“Who knew Eddie was such an asshole.” He keeps his voice light but the prior events weigh heavy on my mind. How could he say those things to me? How could he believe that this was my fault?

“I don’t think you’re sick. I think you’re perfect just the way you are, Rich.” He holds me against his chest until my tears are finally dry. I pull away and look him in the eyes.

“Thanks. I think you’re perfect too, Stanley.” He helps me up from the floor and leads me to the couch.

“Why don’t you have a nap, you’ve had a long day.” Coming from anyone else I would think they were talking down to me. But coming from Stanley it just sounds like an amazing idea. I nod and he directs my head to rest in his lap. He hums a tune under his breath as I slowly drift off into sleep.

“Why isn’t Eddie here?” Beverly asks me as we’re walking to the Quarry. Stan looks back at me but doesn’t interject.

“We had a fight, and he said some pretty shitty things to me.” And by shitty I mean homophobic. I mean I should have seen it coming, with how he was raised and all. And I’ve heard some of the things Sonia has said about gay people, but I never expected Eddie to believe them. But it wasn’t cool of me to almost lose it, I could have seriously hurt him if Stan wasn’t there.

“You’re going to tell me all about it later.” I agree because I’ve always told Beverly everything. Everything except the life-changing thing that recently happened to me, I don’t even know how I’m going to tell her. Because I know I have to, all of them have the right to know, but I’m scared of how they’ll react. But we did all fight an inter-dimensional killer clown, so vampire shouldn’t be too far fetched.

“I’ll stop by your house, could I stay the night too?’ 

“Why of course my lady.” She laughs and so do I. Don’t get me wrong I absolutely love Stan, but I’m sure he wants a break from me. And it’s only one night, so nothing should go wrong.

“Spill.” I hand her water and sit down across from her. I take a sip, just to buy more time to actually think of what to say.

“I’m,” I didn’t realize this would be so hard, I mean with Stan I was literally covered in blood, there was no way to explain myself out of that one.

“I’m gay.” Not the truth I was going to tell tonight, but still one that needed to get out there. She lays a hand on mine and smiles at me.

“That’s ok, I’m happy that you trusted me.” I wish I could fall in love with her, she’s everything I could ever want in a woman.

“So what did Eddie say?” I guess I don’t actually have to tell her about the vampire thing just yet, I just need to leave some things out of the story. I take a breath I don’t need and plunge into the story.

“I told Eddie that Patrick tried to, assault me. And he told me that it was my fault because I am a faggot.” It’s very watered down but she still gets the gist of it, her face is red in anger.

“He fucking said that to you? I am going to kill him the next time I see him.” I protest but it doesn’t do anything. I know she won’t actually kill him, maybe just his spirit and self-confidence.

“It’s fine, Bev. It’s just Derry, it’s always going to be like that for me.” I shrug. She still looks pissed but now it’s tinged with sadness.

“There are better places. Somewhere you are accepted and you can grow old with the person you love.” Grow old, something I’ll never do. I’ve briefly thought about it, but not _really_ thought about it. I’m going to watch all of my friends grow old and die, while I stay a teenage boy forever. But I would never think to make them like me, like a monster. They deserve to live happy lives, and I’ll just be here, in Derry. Because that’s where monsters are.


	6. Update (Not an actual chapter)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't a new chapter. Sorry. :(

Hello! I'm really sorry that I haven't been posting as much lately, I've just restarted school and that takes up a lot of my time. :( I really want to get back into the groove of things but I've been suffering from a bad car of writers block. I promise this story has not been abandoned, but it will be on a short Hiatus until I come up with new ideas. I hope you guys can be patient and I'll make sure to write this as best as I can. <3


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